


Every Day

by EmiAliceinWonderland



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Viktor's name is spelt with a k you can't stop me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 05:25:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9057451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmiAliceinWonderland/pseuds/EmiAliceinWonderland
Summary: It takes three months before Viktor finds out about Yuuri's anxiety disorder.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in one go, purely as a cathartic splurge. I don't even know what to write in this description, ahhh. I just wrote this for myself. Basically: this is anxiety. It's not pretty, it's not cute. 
> 
> Potential triggers for: description of panic/anxiety attack, emetophobia.  
> Also fyi: Yuuri's thoughts about himself/about having an anxiety disorder are purely the character thinking as negative thoughts about yourself is a massive part of anxiety, but if you're reading and have an anxiety disorder it doesn't mean I think YOU'RE pathetic, i think you're super strong <3

Yuuri doesn't remember a life without anxiety, but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with it. You'd think it would, you'd think you'd get used to it, but somehow it gets more and more tiring, more exhausting, and weighs you down a little heavier each day you wake up. 

He is fifteen when his parents decide they have to "do something about it". His coach had called them up, worried that Yuuri hadn't been able to eat, so weak from nauseating worry that he'd kept falling over on the ice. It's more than pre-competition nerves, then, they realise. When this panic is seeping into his everyday life, into his practice skates, affecting his ability to eat, sleep, _breathe._

It's definitely more than competition nerves or performance anxiety. 

When Yuuri is seventeen he is diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, it doesn't mean much to him, expect the word 'disorder' sticks in his head like a sharp rock in a shoe and clogs up his throat when he swallows. He should have known he wasn't normal. 

When Yuuri is eighteen he is allowed to be prescribed some pills. They help him sleep, and make him feel a little less sick when he's panicking about something, but if he takes them before he goes on the ice, his limbs don't co-ordinate as well as he needs them too, his movements are a fraction slower than usual. He'd rather throw up before every competition than have his ability be compromised. 

When Yuuri is twenty-three he has the worst panic attack of his life. Vicchan has just died, he has just lost in the most humiliating defeat of his career at the Grand Prix Final and a fifteen year old has just managed to make him feel like the bathroom he's hiding in is going to cave in on top of him. 

He calls his mother, she says "I love you, Yuuri," she says, "We're waiting for you at home," she says, "You'll be okay," but none of it really helps. 

Yuuri's ears are ringing when he finally disassociates enough to leave the bathroom without sobbing in front of people. 

 

\---

Viktor doesn't know until three months into his stay at Hasetsu. 

It's not because he's not observant, but because Yuuri has had over two decades of practice in hiding it. 

He throws up every morning, mildly anxious about the Onsen on Ice competition and the prospect of Viktor leaving him for Yurio, for Russia, for a better life. 

Viktor doesn't notice that, though. Yuuri is quiet, practiced at waking up nauseous and quietly rushing to the bathroom, brushing his teeth, taking a deep breath, and hoping he can get through the morning. 

When Onsen on Ice is over, it's his free skate that wakes Yuuri up in a fluster. There's always something, he could have the most relaxed life on earth and his brain would still find something to panic about. That's why it's a disorder, he supposes. He sighs as he wipes a stupid, single tear from the corner of his eye. He doesn't even really know why he's crying. There's not always a reason. Sometimes the tightness of his chest, and the feeling of an invisible rope around his neck, and the ringing of his ears, and the haziness of his vision, and the clench in his heart, and the ache in his stomach, and the lump in his throat, and the dread creeping through him just gets a bit too much. 

Yuuri sucks in a long breath, he tries to count to seven but by five he feels like he's run out of oxygen, his chest is too tight and won't let enough air in, he's sure of it, he's convinced of it, he can't breathe, he can't breathe, he can't breathe. He cannot breathe. 

\---

Viktor finds him in the bathroom opposite Yuuri's bedroom at Hasetsu. It's Makkachin who alerts him to Yuuri's presence there, actually. He runs into Viktor's room and whines at him, clearly wanting something. 

"What is it?", Viktor asks in sleepy Russian, rubbing his tired eyes. It's early, about an hour before he and Yuuri need to be up for their morning practice at the rink. He can hear quiet noises coming from the bathroom though, a little like sobbing or retching. His heart clenches immediately, and he throws the covers off his bed, grabs a robe and strides to Yuuri's bathroom. 

"Yuuri...?" he calls out quietly so as not to startle the other boy or wake the rest of the household. When he gets into the bathroom, he turns the light on because Yuuri had left it dull and hard to see in the early morning dusk. 

"Oh, you're sick," Viktor says almost immediately, his voice falling softer as he looks over pityingly at his student. Yuuri is sitting on the floor by the toilet, propped up against the side of the bathtub, sweat beading on his forehead, although he is shivering. 

Yuuri shakes his head, "No, 'm f-fine," he gets out, attempting to stand up but Viktor pushes him gently back down with a hand on his shoulder and moves to sit next to him on the floor, but not before grabbing a face cloth from the nearby sink to place on Yuuri's forehead. 

"You're not fine," Viktor says kindly but firmly as he wipes some of the sweat off Yuuri's face. Yuuri closes his eyes and sags in resigned exhaustion to being taken care of. "You must have flu. No practice today." 

\---

Yuuri almost laughs. _'No practice today.'_ If Viktor knew that this happened to this severity at least once a week, and on a lesser level every single day, there would be so many cancelled practices that he might as well not skate at all. 

"I'm not sick," he says weakly, though he knows it sounds like a downright lie with the way he looks and the position Viktor has found him in. He looks down at his fingers, flinching a little when Viktor moves closer. "I'm..." he starts, before Viktor can object to his statement. Because he _isn't_ sick. Not in the way Viktor thinks he is anyway. 

"I...this happens all the time. I promise I'm okay. I promise I'm used to it," he says eventually. He is still looking down at his hands, they are shaking a little and the only thing stopping him from scratching his right hand nails over the back of his left hand is the fact that Viktor is right next to him. 

"It happens all the time?" Viktor whispers, taking the wash cloth from Yuuri's forehead to drop a hand over Yuuri's as if he could sense that he needed to cover them. He sounds vaguely horrified when he asks the question, and Yuuri's almost lets out a bitter laugh again. No one believes him when he jokes that he throws up everyday, that he can't sleep through the night. So many people say they have panic attacks these days, that Yuuri easily blends into the crowd of casual worriers if he is ever brave enough to mention his condition. 

Viktor is different though. He doesn't brush it off, but he doesn't make a big deal out of it either. It's everything Yuuri needs in that moment. 

"Do you have medication?" Viktor asks gently, squeezing Yuuri's still trembling hand, and _oh,_  maybe he knows and understands a lot more than Yuuri had thought he would. Yuuri gives a short nod, still looking down, though he can feel Viktor's eyes boring into him. 

"In the cabinet," Yuuri says, and coughs as his throat restricts around the words, making him gag a little. 

Viktor nods and stands up to open the bathroom cabinet above the sink that Yuuri had looked over to. "These?" Viktor asks gently, holding out a packet with _Katsuki Yuuri: Take one daily and one as needed_ written on it. 

Yuuri nods. 

Viktor walks out of the room momentarily to grab a glass, fills it up with tap water, and then sits back down to place one of the small white tablets into Yuuri's palm along with the glass of water. 

"Thank you," Yuuri croaks out as he raises the pill to his lips and takes a sip of water. He almost cries as he says it, but blinks back burning tears just in time. 

"You don't need to thank me for this, Yuuri," Viktor says quietly, taking the glass from Yuuri and placing it on the bathroom floor when he's done with it. 

They sit together for a few minutes in silence. Viktor is breathing quiet loudly: long, even breaths like he is practicing for singing or playing an instrument. _In, out, in, out._ He doesn't say anything, but Yuuri knows he is doing it for his benefit, for Yuuri to follow. Yuuri closes his eyes and breaths with Viktor. 

"Can I hug you?" Viktor whispers after a little while. Yuuri blinks his eyes open and is surprised to see that Viktor's own eyes are red and bleary. He too has been holding back tears. 

"Y-yeah."

"I'm sorry you have to deal with this."

Yuuri takes a deep breath, pushes it out, in, out, in, buries his head in Viktor's warm neck, lets the medication calm him down a little, and tries not to feel guilty about the fact that his own brain can't make the right chemicals. 

He wants to say "I'm sorry," to Viktor, wants to profusely apologise for waking him up, for making him see this, for worrying him, for being so strange and awkward and pathetic.

But he had read something online the other day - a positivity blog that Phichit had shown him had posted a quote about trying to change your unnecessary apologies into thank you's. So Yuuri wraps his arms around Viktor's neck, squeezing closer, and does not say sorry. Instead he whispers, "Thank you for saying that," and thinks _thank you for being here._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments would be appreciated if you want xxx


End file.
